


A Story Untold - Philosopher's Stone

by CoolJosh2002



Series: The Untold Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23444383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoolJosh2002/pseuds/CoolJosh2002
Summary: Year 1! After a tragedy in his infancy, Harry Potter is thrown into a world he has very limited knowledge about. Surrounded by new friends, they learn, play Quidditch and generally be children! But when a mysterious object comes to light, their year might become a lot less normal...
Series: The Untold Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686580





	1. Prologue: Ten Years Earlier

**Author's Note:**

> So, a Story Untold was a story I originally wrote with a friend of mine, that I know have complete control over. I decided to rewrite the Story in a different way, taking the name and running with it.
> 
> So, this story will be split into seven books, it will follow the main plot of Harry Potter from start to finish, but will also expand on the events already depicted, incorporating new events, and showing events only mentioned previously.
> 
> There are OCs, four of them, and they will be important, as that’s how this story originally started, as a story about a group of friends in the middle of the war. That will still play a part here, but I want to not only expand on that, but also everyone else around them.
> 
> As such, welcome to the Prologue of A Story Untold: Philosopher’s Stone.

Nothing about the starry sky that night could suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening. And yet, as a cold man, walking slowly, but steadily towards a generic house, something was going to be happening soon. The man pushed a hand through his long black robe, settling it gently but firmly on the gate in front of him. He glanced up, the window showed that the lights were currently on in the house, a man was playing gently with a small boy, a woman stood in the background, watching, a loving smile on her face. The man smirked as he moved towards the front door. They hadn’t noticed him. Good.

He placed his hand on the door, twisting and pulling. The door wouldn’t budge. The man thought this would happen, pulling out a white stick from his robe, pointing it at the door and muttering under his breath. With a click, the door opened.

The man stepped inside, letting the warmth and comfort of the place surround him. He frowned, walking slowly into the main hall, he could see into the main room, where the man was getting ready to pack up for the night. His messy black hair and rimmed glasses shone in the moonlight, he smirked as the man saw him.

With a brief shout, the other man started to head towards the intruder, preparing to protect himself, and his family. The woman, a redhead, quickly dashed past with her son in her hands, dashing up the stairs as fast as possible.

The intruder turned back to his opponent. He was foolish, for leaving his only weapon in the other room, but he would pay for his treachery, he would pay. He pulled out the stick, said two words, and with a flash of green light, the man dropped to the floor. Unmoving.

Satisfied, the intruder headed for the stairs, as that was where the woman had gone. Gliding up, he reached the door, locked shut. He smiled as he pulled the stick again and blew the door open. The woman cried out as he entered the room, she stared at him, tears in her eyes. She needn’t die. She could be a good… slave.

But the woman tired him, she kept begging, begging with him to spare her son. The man wanted to snort, but he didn’t. She didn’t stop, so he stopped her. With another flash of green light, she also dropped to the ground, just like her husband before her.

With a final glance, he turned towards the boy. He stared up at him, confusion in his eyes. The man smiled, then raised the stick, intent on ending this once and for all. He said two words, the flash of green light came, and suddenly, he was gone. Stuck in a mist, waiting to move on, but he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t, the boy had somehow survived, and had done something to him.

With a growl of anger, the mist departed, heading towards the nearest forest. He would wait. He would wait however long he needed to, for that one person to find him, and then, he could finally finish what he started.

As the morning sun rose high in the sky, Britain started to feel a calm and ease for the first time in years, everywhere people of various shapes and sizes looked up into the sky as the news started to spread. Finally, peace could be had.


	2. The Boy Who Lived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Around the nation, Voldemort's defeat is being celebrated. Yet, a small tinge of dissatisfaction continues to eminate around the nation. Maybe, everything isn't as it seems...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Note: I know Rowling has said some pretty dumb things recently. You can still enjoy her creation without agreeing with what the creator has said.
> 
> So, here's the first proper chapter of A Story Untold – Philosopher's Stone! The first thing you'll largely notice is the entirety of Chapter 1 of Philosopher's Stone is here, albeit rewritten in my own style, so the events are the same, but dialogue will be different, and not identical to the book. Also of note, there is a ton of extra content here that didn't exist in the original chapter, so the point of view will not only be Harry! Anyway, I will put asterisks over scenes that don't have any largely noticeable differences from the book so you can skip over them if you want, and get to the original stuff. Enjoy!

*****

In a small corner of England, sitting nicely snuggled between Number 2 and Number 6, was a large house known as Number 4, Privet Drive. This house, owned by a _wonderful_ family known as the Dursleys, didn't know that their lives would soon be altered dramatically. As on this very normal November 1st, a surge of magic swept the nation, and as people awoke that lovely morning, a sense of safety could be felt.

To the Dursleys however, this was just a normal morning. Vernon, the man of the house, was a large whale-like man. He'd settled years ago for a job at the Drill-making firm known as Grunnings, and in his years of experience and expertise as he liked to put it, had been promoted to Director of the company. An aspiring position as Vernon thought, and something that everybody with a brain should work towards.

Vernon's wife, Petunia Dursley, had an interesting history, the polar opposite of her husband, being thin rather than large, with a large neck entirely suitable for getting ideas from the other residents of Privet Drive as she liked to put it. Petunia had one thing that she never acknowledged in her life. To anyone who entered the house and looked at the photos on the walls, there would be no indication of Petunia having a sister. Petunia didn't speak to her sister much at all, that any hard knowledge of her whereabouts at this very point in time weren't interesting to her.

The final member of the family was an agitated toddler, currently having a crack of his toys against the hard floor, was Dudley Dursley. Dudley didn't understand much, but he knew his parents loved him a lot, they bought him a lot of toys and that was a sign that they loved him. Obviously. There was no other reason for it. He was very happy, and nothing was going to ruin that for him.

So, like any other day of the week. Vernon sat in an armchair in front of the TV, TV on and showcasing the extremely interesting news for that morning. Vernon himself would be holding a large newspaper in his stubby hands, the only proper way to start the morning. Petunia would be in the kitchen or the garden, doing work or spying on the neighbours. Dudley would be smacking his toys against the floor, as all kids would do.

Vernon started to get ready for another fine day of work. Nothing at all would be considered unusual as Vernon trotted up the stairs, walking into his room he shared with his lovely wife, he started towards the dresser, intending to pick out the most boring tie he could from his rather small collection. As he wandered back down into the main living space, where Petunia was currently hurrying a fussy Dudley into his high chair at the table, he grabbed his suitcase and kissed his wife on the cheek. As this happened, none of them noticed a tabby owl swoop past the kitchen window.

"He's such a little tyke." Vernon said fondly as he tried to kiss his son goodbye, failing because of the racket the young boy was making. With a final wave, he headed out the door and towards the car. Backing out quickly and swiftly, he headed out towards his workplace at Grunnings, intent and excited for another interesting and swift day.

His drive to work every weekday morning was quite normal, thank you very much. The man was so used to it that he would notice any oddity that he could see. The first oddity happening as soon as he arrived at the corner, leading out of the street. Glancing out the car window, intent on watching the road and seeing if he had clearance to move, he saw a cat. "What the?" Vernon muttered, watching the cat, glancing at a map in front of it. He groaned slightly, and, wondering if it was just his eyesight playing tricks on him, rubbed his eyes before glancing over again. The map was gone, but the cat was now staring right at him. Vernon shivered as the cats slit-like eyes bored into him. "Just a trick of the sun." He grunted as he pulled off, glancing into the side mirror the cat seemed to be looking at the sign to Privet Drive, he sighed in annoyance as he sped away, not thinking about it.

As he came to a stop at a set of traffic lights he noticed the next oddity. _Those_ people. A group of what must be 30-40 somethings standing around in broad daylight, celebrations happening, wearing _cloaks_. Vernon hated cloaks. They were disgusting things. A very un-normal piece of clothing if you will. Vernon hated un-normal people. With a sneer, he wanted to shout at them, tell them to bugger off. But he didn't. He just sneered at them, hatred flowing through his veins.

HONK

"Move you bloody plonker! The light's green!" Came the sound of an angry voice behind him. He glared at the man in the car behind him, who glared right back.

HONK

Vernon growled and moved forward, continuing on his journey.

The final oddity of his morning was in the form of an animal. As he drove into Grunnings carpark and parked his wonderful car, an Owl came over and landed on it. He stared at it. 'Owls don't come out during the day.' He thought as he waved his hand at the bird, causing it to fly away. He frowned as he entered the building, heading inside quickly, dismissively waving at the woman at the front desk, he headed up to the ninth floor, where his office was located, focused on one thing once again. Drills.

*****

* * *

A man entered his home quietly, he'd been working in affairs recently, being popular among most people in the city. He was well known for his resourcefulness, and general likeability. What many of his accomplices didn't know however, was that his wife, was a witch. Cayden Mumps loved his wife very much, and unlike many other non-magical folk, hadn't taken off when she'd told him. He'd taken her up in his arms and kissed her as if nothing had changed, and to him, it hadn't. He'd set her back down and resumed his usual life, loving his wife, and soon after, his son.

His wife, Callie Mumps nee Ewart, was a witch. She went to Hogwarts for her schooling years from 1972-1979. She was a Hufflepuff, and proud of it. She wouldn't let any of her house's reputation within the school get in the way of her learning, and she happily left the school satisfied with what she had done.

Callie had met Cayden during the summer before her Sixth Year at Hogwarts, she happily fell in love and they managed to push through the long-distance aspect, she told him about their world not long after they started dating, and was delighted when he stayed. They stayed together soon after both finished their respective schooling, and moved into their respective jobs. Muggle Affairs for Cayden, and training as a Healer for Carrie.

What brought their world completely together though, was the birth of their son, Quentin. What a beautiful boy he was to both of them, born Mid-January in 1980, it was a bit of an early mothership, but Callie couldn't care. She loved her son very much, and would let him know that every day. Cayden and Callie happily married a couple months later, after Cayden proposed near a beautiful lake.

"Honey, I'm home!" Cayden called out as he stepped into the flat where they lived. He shut the door quietly and entered quickly. He placed his case down on the table, and entered the small living area, where Quentin was currently toddling along the ground, Callie sitting on the couch watching him. "Honey? Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling beside his wife, who had tears in her eyes.

"I'm fine, Cay." She replied, watching her son.

"What's happened?" Cayden replied, knowing when his wife was hiding more than he wished. Callie turned her head towards her husband and smiled happily.

"Our baby boy is going to grow up in a safe and happy environment. The War is over." She replied, smiling sadly at him.

"That's wonderful Callie." Cayden said, wrapping his arms around her in comfort. "That's not all, isn't it?" She shook her head.

"You know me too well, Cay." She said, resting her head against him. "Our boy is going to be safe, as will many others. But the end of the war came at a cost."

"What's up?"

"You know Lily? My friend who helped me through the toughest times during my Hogwarts years?"

"Yeah, somewhat." Cayden replied, he knew the Potters, he'd met them before, but not to the extent of his wife. He and James got along really well, and Lily had been a sweet woman, but that had only been once before.

"There was a cost." Callie simply said, her tears falling as she started to sob. Cayden held her close as she wept, figuring out just what had happened. Quentin toddled over to his mother, knowing that she was sad, but not knowing why.

"Mama be okay?" He asked, holding his arms up to her. Callie smiled down at her son and picked him up, holding him in her arms.

"Yes, Quentin. Mummy will be okay."

* * *

Sheard Pritchard was angry. Very angry. So angry, that he slammed the door behind him in a fit of rage when he got home. Everything. Everything he and his friends had worked for. Gone. Gone in the span of mere seconds, all because of one small boy. Sheard was a very proud Pure-blood, settling into his beliefs very quickly as he was sorted into Slytherin at Hogwarts. Such a noble house in the man's eyes. When he found out about a way to get rid of all the filthy muggles and muggleborns, they weren't real witches and wizards after all. He jumped at that chance as soon as he finished at Hogwarts. The door shook on its hinges as he slammed it, stomping into the house.

"Tamia!" He called, when he stepped in. "You ungrateful bitch, come out from where you're hiding!" He shouted again, stepping into the living room, where said woman sat, gently stroking the hair of her daughter sitting quietly in front of her.

"I'm not hiding anywhere Sheard." She replied. Tapping her foot quietly, her husband could be a lot to work with, but as a Ravenclaw, she was surely up to the task. Wits would outclass Cunning any day. Tamia, being a Muggleborn, was constantly at odds with the man she called her husband. Yet somehow, through everything, she fell for the man. She couldn't figure out why.

They were both at Hogwarts together, 1972-1979. Yet they never interacted at the school. She was below him in his eyes. Yet, one drunken afternoon, after both had left the school, ended in a one night stand. A rough night, in more ways than one. The next morning Tamia had been left for herself, finding out she was pregnant about a month later.

Sheard wasn't there when Gemma was born. She was an unnaturally small girl at birth, yet the healers managed to keep her alive. Tamia loved her daughter, very much. So, she found Sheard days later, and told him he had a daughter. He married her only to avoid damaging his public image. Tamia took his last name in an act of defiance.

"What do you need, dear?" Tamia said, using the pet name, knowing it would annoy the older man.

"What did you do?" Sheard said, approaching her. His hands held out to aggressively shove his wife to the ground, completely ignoring his daughter sitting right there. She stared between them, sadness settling in her young eyes.

"I did nothing, if that's what you're asking." Tamia said, tossing the recent Daily Prophet on the table. "It was all that boy."

"Potter, that fuc-"

"Don't you dare finish that word in front of Gemma!" Tamia angrily replied, stepping forward. "I don't care, if your so called Dark Lord is gone. Now, you have a Daughter to look after."

"A Daughter? Why didn't you get an abortion woman!?" Tamia stared at Sheard in disbelief, horror crossing her face.

"You wanted me to kill new life. Kill our daughter!? How could you!" She said, staring back at him with tears in her eyes.

"You think I care about you, or _her_!" Sheard replied, stomping out of the room.

"Then why'd you marry me! Why'd you start a life with me!"

"It was a dumb move, if I'd never gotten drunk that one night none of this would've happened!"

"Screw you! That's your daughter!" Sheard stepped forward, coming into Tamia's face.

"She, is not my daughter!" He roared at her. "Not yet." He muttered quietly before storming out of the room.

"Sheard! Sheard, come back here!" Tamia cried, leaving after him, anger and worry etched across her features.

Gemma stared as her parents left the room, shivering in the cold underneath the open window.

* * *

*****

Vernon was hungry. He'd been sitting at his desk all day so far and had been thoroughly enjoying it. He had a lovely office on the Ninth Floor of the Grunnings Building, a seat facing away from the Window, so he didn't have to see any of the light burning through from outside. He glanced up as yet another man, the fifth one that day had walked past his desk and pointed out the window, curiosity and confused etched on the man's face. Vernon stood in annoyance, pointing his stubby finger at the man, opening his mouth. "You! Leave! Now! Stop walking past my window and pointing! What is so interesting out there anyway!" Vernon growled, watching in satisfaction as the man quickly apologised and left. Vernon grumbled, standing and leaving towards the elevator, heading back down to the ground floor. Shouting at yet another person that day made Vernon hungry, and maybe he could find out just what the fuss outside was all about.

As he stepped out onto the street, he found something he'd forgotten about once he'd gotten to work. The people in cloaks. Right outside the local bakery, there was a small group of those people, standing around, whispering in small but excited voices. Vernon paid them no mind and stepped right past them into the bakery, walking up to the displays. He pondered for a moment, glancing between the various sweet treats on display. He briefly glanced over the regular bread, but decided he needed a proper treat that day. So, he glanced between them: Doughnuts, Various Types of Pastries, Finger Buns, etc. Lots of choice for the beefy man to choose from.

"Hello, sir! How may I help you?" The baker asked, it was an independent bakery after all. Vernon glanced up, acknowledging the man for a moment.

"Yes, I'll just have a doughnut. A large one." Vernon dismissively replied, wanting to get back to his desk as soon as possible, purely so he could yell at some people again. The baker smiled back, despite feeling a bit annoyed at the dismissiveness, and pulled out the doughnut and placed it carefully in a bag. He smiled as he handed it to Vernon, who grabbed it and left quickly.

As he left the bakery, he caught some whispering from what the people in cloaks were saying outside the bakery. He wanted desperately not to deal with them but couldn't help overhearing their conversation.

"Dominic! Good to see you!"

"Good to see you to, Alex! Did you guys hear the news?"

"Ah! I know what you're talking about! The news about You-Know-Who!"

"I heard he'd been defeated, by a Potter no less! Finally, the war has come to an end!"

"The Potters, eh? I'd heard something else. I'd heard that –"

"Ah yes, I heard about that to. If that's true, then my condolences."

"Guys, I heard something else, their son."

"Who?"

"The Potters have a son?"

"Yeah, I heard his name was Harry –"

Vernon froze, taking in what he had heard briefly for a moment. He sprinted as best as he could back across the street, right back into Grunnings. Quickly using the elevator to return to the Ninth Floor. As he quickly rushed out, he snapped at his secretary in annoyance. "Don't disturb me! I have urgent business!" His secretary yelped, but nodded silently. Vernon grunted as he collapsed back at his desk, grabbing the phone and immediately starting to dial his own home phone.

But he stopped. Sitting back, Vernon stroked his moustache for a moment. 'Hmm… Potter. Not an unusual name.' Vernon thought, as his moustache twirled under his finger. 'There's many families that are called Potter. It has to be one of them. Besides, Petunia's sister might not even have a son, or a son called Harry. It could be Harvey… or Harold.' Vernon sat back satisfied as he placed the phone back on its receiver. 'Yes, no need to worry, Petunia.' Vernon thought as he went back to work.

But it was suddenly harder, as his mind was no longer purely on drills, his favourite thought, as the Potters kept entering his mind. He growled as another one of his co-workers walked past, pointing out the window once again.

*****

* * *

"I'm going to be the best wizard there ever was!" A young boy said, dashing about the rather oddly shaped house. A young toddler clapped his hands in happiness, which caused the older boy to laugh, picking up his brother.

"You hear that, Ron? I'm going to be the best!" The toddler laughed again, clapping his hands together.

"You'd better put him down, Bill." A younger boy said, playing with a small dragon toy. "Mum will be in a fit if you accidently drop him."

"I'm not going to drop him, Charlie!" Bill replied, placing the toddler back down. "Besides, Mum's too busy fawning over Ginny to even notice us."

"I know." Charlie replied, remembering back to a few days ago. "Our lovely twin brothers have taken the opportunity to cause as much havoc as possible. Perce has been annoyed all day." He said, indicating to the scorch mark on the wall, where the twins had undoubtedly caused something with one of their parents' wands.

"You're supposed to be the oldest of all of us, Bill!" Percy said, as he sat quietly reading a book in the corner. "They somehow turned my hair blue!"

"I know!" Bill replied, a small grin on his face.

"You're supposed to be going to Hogwarts next year as well." Percy noted, his nose back in the book he was ready.

"I know, I know!" Bill replied. Settling into the oldest brother mode. "Don't worry, I'll teach you all a bit of magic when I get back after my first year!" Ron clapped his hands again in response, laughing. He didn't really understand what his brother was talking about, but he found it funny for some reason.

"William Arthur Weasley! You most certainly will not be teaching any of your brothers any magic! Most certainly not to Fred and George!" Molly Weasley shouted as she stomped into the room, holding a baby Ginny in her arms, the first female born Weasley in generations.

"I wasn't going to teach them anything bad, Mum!" Bill replied, waving his arms around. "I would've just taught them simple stuff. Besides, they wouldn't have had a wand to do anything anyway!" He said, reasonably, raising his voice back to his mother.

"No, you will not, William! End of story!" Molly finished, turning to Ginny as she started crying, having been woken up from her nap by all the shouting. "It's okay Ginevra!" Molly said, starting to soothe her daughter. She gave Bill one last look, speaking as she did. "Your father will be home soon, so clean up this room a bit." She exited quickly, putting Ginny into a sit-up chair, as she returned to the kitchen, itching to prepare that night's dinner.

"We heard our names!" A young boy said, dashing into the room.

"Mum was having a fit again wasn't she!" Another boy said, standing next to his brother. Both of them were identical, both with mischievous grins on their faces.

"You've arrived just in time!" Bill said, indicating to the currently quite messy living room. "You can help us clean up! Maybe you can try and clean that mark you made the other day."

"That was a good prank wasn't it, George?" One of the twins asked, turning to his brother.

"It sure was, Fred!" George replied, high-fiving his brother.

"While I do think it was a particularly good prank," Bill said, laughing as he remembered back to the day the prank happened, when Fred and George were trying to attack Percy with dungbombs, in which there were too many, leaving the scorch mark on the wall. Their mother knew instantly what had happened, as the putrid smell that was left behind, and the fact the twins hands were incredibly dirty, left them with the most chores for a week. "You still left this mark on the wall, and I'm sure one of your jobs was to clean it up." Bill said, laughing as the front door was opened. Most of the room got up and left towards the door, the exception being Percy, who glanced up briefly, but quickly went back to his book.

"Evening, Weasleys!" Came a distinctly masculine voice, stepping into the house, shutting the door behind him. He had bright red hair, the same as the rest of the family, but unlike the children he was starting to bald, he also wore glasses over a set of blue eyes, with a nice, warm smile on his face.

"Dad's home!" The twins said, rushing over to their father in happiness.

"Evening, boys!" Their father said, stepping past them quickly after giving each a nice pat on the head. He headed towards the kitchen, where Molly was starting to place platters of food on the table. "Evening, Molly-wobbles!" He said, coming in to kiss his wife briefly. Molly blushed, replying as she settled Ginny in her stand-up chair.

"Arthur, you know I don't like hearing that name in front of the kids!" Molly replied, giving her husband a stern glare as he settled down at the table, a good-natured smile on his face.

"Sorry, Molly dear." Arthur replied, as the rest of the family sat at the table themselves, starting to place food on their plates. Molly picked up Ron and set him in his own stand-up chair, before settling into a seat herself, between her two youngest children, and starting to help feed her two youngest children.

"So, Arthur, I assume you've heard what's happened?" Molly asked, as Ron gladly opened his mouth for some food.

"Yes, it's been the only thing that's been talked about at the Ministy." Arthur replied, as he ate some of the Sausages that Molly had made that night. "The war's over, it seems. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has apparently been defeated."

"But I heard it was because of a young boy?" Molly asked, concern crossing her voice. "I wonder if the boy is okay."

"Yes, James and Lily's boy." Arthur replied. "He is fine, I've heard. Although there's something else, I'm not sure if it's true though. It's about James and Lily." Molly gasped.

"Please. Don't tell me that they're…" Arthur just nodded at his wife, as all evidence pointed towards this conclusion.

"Dad, what's this all about?" Percy asked, interest lining his features. Arthur smiled at his son, thinking about his next words carefully.

"Hopefully," Arthur replied, turning to all his children. "It's something you'll never have to deal with." He said, returning to his meal. "But enough about that, let's eat! What have you boys done today?" He asked, sending the table into a nice, happy family meal. Joyous smiles and conversation littering the room the entire time.

* * *

A man with slightly long, platinum blonde hair stepped onto the lot of his large home. With a groan, the large gates opened slowly. He stepped inside quickly afterwards, letting the large gates shut with a clang. He headed towards the large dark manor, swiftly opening the door.

"Lucius." A woman's voice called out, stepping into the small light of the moon coming through the window. "You've been gone awhile. I heard the news. Is it true?"

"Yes, Narcissa. It is true." Lucius replied, pulling off his cloak, holding his small cane in his hand. Narcissa stared, curiosity etched on her face.

"Is he really gone?" Narcissa said, wondering what would become of her wonderful family.

"No." Lucius replied simply, pulling up his sleeve on his left hand briefly. Narcissa nodded, moving away, towards the sitting room. Inside, a young boy with equally as blond hair stood in the corner, watching slowly.

"What are you going to do, Lucius?" Narcissa asked. "They'll be hunting people down now, the Ministry won't take long to –"

"Feign ignorance." Lucius replied, relaxing into a nice seat. The crystal chandelier hanging high above, glimmering in the moonlight. "The Ministry will start to pull back now, the War is over. Bagnold won't want it but it will happen. I will not let the Malfoy name be tainted. Although, if we can get someone else in charge…"

"It won't happen. Bagnold has too much power right now, she would want to see this through, she won't stop until everyone who had a hand on the Dark Lord's side is in Azkaban." Narcissa sat at her husband's side, as he relaxed.

"I'll head to the Ministry tomorrow. Malfoy is a prominent name, I should be able to escape custody." Lucius replied, fingering his cane. "But that is not what I wanted to talk to you about. Sheard Pritchard met with me earlier today." Narcissa stared at her husband, curious.

"What did he want?"

"He had an idea, he's desperate to get back onto our good side. The child he had with that filth, he's offered her in a marriage contract, to our dear Draco."

"A marriage contract? Despite her mother's… _heritage_ … she is a very sweet girl. Small, but sweet." Lucius glanced at Narcissa. "What did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it. She'd be suitable for our young boy in the future, despite not being a Pure-Blood."

"What would your ancestors think?" Narcissa asked, massaging her husband's hands.

"I don't know." Lucius replied. "I told him to bring the girl over to the manor at some point, get the two together, let them get to know each other. I'm curious what Draco would think of her." Narcissa didn't answer Lucius, instead standing and heading towards her son, who continued to watch silently from the corner.

"Draco, honey." Draco glanced up at his mother, curiosity on his young face. "Your father wants to speak with you." Draco nodded, walking over towards Lucius as Narcissa left the room, intent on going somewhere else for the time being. Lucius glanced up as his son approached, a very small smile settling on his face.

"How are you this evening, Draco?" Lucius asked as Draco stood nearby.

"Good, father." Draco simply replied, having been coached in speech and being ready to attention from a few months old. By this point, Draco was a bit further along in this aspect, despite being born in June of 1980.

"Sit, Draco. I have something to discuss with you." Lucius said, indicating to the chair in front of him. Draco sat silently, staring at his father. "Do you know of Sheard Pritchard, Draco?" Lucius asked his son. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't he that man who was here a couple months ago? Very angry and annoyed I thought…" Draco replied, sitting patiently.

"Yes, that was him." Lucius replied, picking his next words carefully. "He has come to me with an offer."

"An offer, father?" Draco asked, curiosity rising.

"Yes, Draco. You see, Sheard has a young daughter, only a couple months older than you. He has been a nuisance as of late and wants to return to our good side. He's offered his daughter to us, specifically you Draco, in a marriage contract."

"Marriage, father?"

"Now, now, Draco. Not immediately, but we want to see how you two would connect before we proceed with anything."

"Okay, father." Draco said, starting to get up from his chair.

"Sheard will bring his daughter around periodically over the next few months." Draco nodded, leaving the room slowly, processing the information. "One more thing, Draco." Lucius said, causing his son to turn towards him again. "She is a Half-Blood." Draco scrunched up his face slightly, but nodded and left the room, prejudiced thoughts in his mind.

* * *

*****

Needless to say, Vernon's afternoon had been far from helpful. He'd spent the entire afternoon in varying states of annoyance and anger, switching from dismissiveness to full on anger at a whim. So, when 5pm rolled around, he felt really relieved when he could finally leave.

He'd been so focused on leaving and heading home that he'd subconsciously ran into someone outside the door. "Sorry…" Vernon muttered on instinct, before he got a good look at the man in front of him. Cloak. That was the only thing that registered in Vernon's mind before the man spoke.

"Sorry! You don't need to be sorry at all kind sir! For today is such a wonderful day that I feel so bright I could hug anybody! Why, I hear you ask? Why it's quite simple. For today is the day that You-Know-Who has finally been defeated! A reign of terror and constant war over in one single night! Even a Muggle like yourself ought to be celebrating this fine occasion!" When the small man finished his speech he gave Vernon a tight hug around the waist, before skipping merrily away, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Vernon had frozen. Never, in his entire life had a complete stranger come up so merrily, and given him a hug. It was unheard of! 'And very much not normal!' Vernon thought as he quickly entered his car and drove the way home as fast as he could, earning himself more HONKS from other cars annoyed with his reckless driving. But Vernon didn't care. This day was very strange.

As he pulled in to Number 4, he spotted the cat he'd seen that morning. He was sure it was the same cat, as it had markings around its eyes. It was once again staring at him, and had since moved over to a spot of the garden fence. Vernon was annoyed.

"Shoo!" He said angrily, waving his arms at the cat. The cat stared back, more annoyed than anything. Vernon grumbled and entered the house to escape. As he entered and sat at the Dinner Table for the local dinner, he thought back on his day. A strange day indeed. Petunia placed a plate in front of him, before sitting down herself.

"So, Vernon. How was your day?" Petunia asked, starting on her food.

"Good, Petunia dear." Vernon dismissively replied. "Grunnings is in a good spot financially."

"That's nice, Vernon. I had a wonderful day." Petunia replied, starting on a recap of her day. "As I tended to the gardens I heard that Mrs. Carter across the road had a rather interesting argument with her daughter today. I say she needs a bit of discipline. No need to let a child like that do what they want, unlike my Duddykins! Oh yes, Vernon, Dudley learned a new word today, want to show your father what you learned today, Duddykins."

Dudley didn't listen, continuing to smack the table with his hands, creating more a racket than anything. Petunia just smiled at the boy.

"He learnt the word, Shan't today! Isn't that right, Duddykins." Vernon smiled slightly, the events of the day still mulling in his mind.

"That's great, Petunia dear." Vernon said, standing from the table and heading towards the Living Room. As Petunia took Dudley upstairs and got him ready for bed, Vernon sat in thought. 'It was all a mixup. Just a trick of the imagination.' Vernon thought as he swiftly tried to forget everything that had happened that day, it was just too weird and completely out of the ordinary to not be some crazy dream that he'd had. Yes, he'd wake up soon and go to work as normal. Nothing had changed. Vernon grunted as he turned on the Evening News, he wasn't asleep after all…

"Well that was very exciting wasn't it. In our final bit of news, Bird-watches all over Britain are wondering just what is up with all of the Nations Owls today. Reports from many viewers have noted the usually night-time creatures to be roaming around as normal throughout the entire day. Bird-watches have noted this unusual behaviour, saying that it is rare, but a treat to see an Owl during the day, but also noted that they usually aren't out and about in these great numbers. Now, it's time for the weather with Jim. Jim, are we going to have any more showers of Owls tonight?" The newscaster noted with a small hefty laugh as the screen changed to a short man standing in front of a large map.

"Thank you, Ted. I wouldn't be so sure about the Owls, I heard we had some viewers further out complaining that the rain I promised them yesterday came out as Shooting Stars instead! Bonfire Night is next week, people! You're all celebrating a bit early! What I can promise is a wet night tonight, along with some smaller showers as the week goes on." The weather man finished his segment, causing Vernon to growl in annoyance. He didn't imagine it. Things were weird. The people in cloaks weren't helping that.

Petunia entered the Living Room, having put Dudley to bed and had made a cup of tea for both herself and her husband. She noticed Vernon's unusually thoughtful face, as she took a sip of her tea. "What's the matter, Vernon?" She asked, raising the cup to her lips.

"Say – Petunia, dear… You haven't heard from your Sister lately, haven't you?" Petunia glanced up quickly, a small glare settling on her husband.

"Vernon, I don't have a Sister, remember…?" She said with pursed lips. Sipping her tea again, staring straight at Vernon.

"Just something on the news. That's why I was asking."

"Well, no. I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"The news just said that there were Owls out all day, Shooting Stars falling. There were some strange people in cloaks that I saw all day today, celebrating something. Think it has anything to do with… you know… _her lot_?" Petunia didn't reply, sipping her tea once again. They pretended she didn't have a sister for a reason. "They have a son don't they, you Sister and her _husband_?" Vernon spat the word, wondering how such an annoying man could've ever gotten married. "He'd be about Dudley's age now, right?"

"Yes, he would be. Not that I'd know. Or care."

"What's his name. It's something like, Harold, isn't it…? Or Harvey?" Petunia glanced up.

"No, it's Harry. Such a common name. Extremely nasty if you ask me."

"Oh yes, I very much agree." Vernon replied, proceeding to sip his tea and blankly watch the news.

After a few more minutes of TV watching, Vernon and Petunia decided to head off towards bed. TV got very boring after all. As they stepped upstairs into their fine bedroom, Vernon continued to think. 'The Potters… they can't have anything to do with this… If anyone found out we were related to those people…' His train of thought stopped as Petunia headed towards the bathroom, to clean herself up before she headed to bed. Vernon took this opportunity to glance out the window. Yep. Cat was still there.

"Bloody cat." Vernon grumbled as he and his wife settled into bed. 'They can't do anything… We'd never get mixed up into anything like that… It _couldn't_ affect them…'

He was wrong. He was very wrong.

*****

* * *

Darius Duvall sighed in relief as he entered his home late that evening. It had been a very long day, as usual for the past few months, Darius had been hunting down the followers of You-Know-Who, intent on bringing them in for a trial, he was working hard with his own father, Rex, both of whom were Aurors in the Ministry of Magic.

The day had been long and hard, followers were popping up all over the place, ever since You-Know-Who himself supposedly disappeared the previous evening. Darius didn't know what to think of the situation, but a part of him was relieved. His wife, Scarlett and their beautiful daughter Laura deserved a crime free world to live in.

'Hasn't stopped any of them though.' Darius thought as his wife greeted him in the kitchen with a smile and a hug.

"Hi, darling." Scarlett said, as Darius took their daughter from her chair nearby, holding her close. "Hard day at work?"

"Of course." Darius replied, sitting down at the nearby bench. "It always is these days." Scarlett gave her husband a small smile, as she prepared a cup of coffee for him.

"Getting anywhere?" She asked, placing the cup in front of him.

"Slowly." Darius replied, sipping the warm drink. "It's difficult right now, and the Ministry is in an uproar. Especially after what happened yesterday, supposedly You-Know-Who has vanished." Scarlett stared over at her husband.

"Oh yes, I read about that while I was out feeding our animals." Scarlett replied, as she washed her hands in the sink. "Something about the Potters boy?"

"Yes," Darius said, contemplating his words carefully. "That's what I'd heard, especially as it was the only talk that seemed to permeate throughout the Ministry. Nothing else was really as interesting."

"I'd say." Scarlett replied, sitting down beside Darius. "Sounds like things might finally be returning to normal."

"For you maybe," Darius said, looking his wife in the eye. "These next few days are going to be some of the toughest ones yet. Most of his followers will be out for revenge about their master I'm sure." He said, watching his wife carefully.

"What about the…" She started, glancing over at her daughter, who stared at them, wonder in her eyes. Darius noticed his wife faltering, knowing what she was talking about.

"I guess we'll find out soon." He simply said, wondering along the same lines as his wife. Scarlett nodded, and turned back to the kitchen, cleaning up the place as she went.

"I've been meaning to ask, how are Rex and Leta?" Scarlett asked, knowing that Darius kept up with his parents quite frequently.

"They're both good. Dad has been out on the field with me, hunting down as many of You-Know Who's followers as possible. Mum has been fine, staying at home mainly and only going out to get supplies when absolutely necessary. She's been very concerned, considering how active we have been in the war." Scarlett smiled, she was happy knowing her in-laws were both doing fine.

"We'll have to have them over soon, I'm sure they'd love to see their granddaughter again, considering there hasn't been much time to get together due to the war. I should go find a nice recipe that Leta and I can work on for dinner that night." Scarlett said, heading towards the bookshelf, where a variety of different books for different occasions sat.

"How very Ravenclaw of you, my dear!" Darius said, a wistful smile on his face.

"Of course it is, dear." Scarlett replied, giving her husband a loving look. "I was sorted there for a reason, just like how you were sorted into Hufflepuff." She smiled as she set the book down on the bench, reminiscing on old school memories.

Laura moved slightly, pattering over to the book and looking up at her mother, giving her a curious look.

"Hi, Laura honey, do you want to help me find something to cook with your grandmother." Laura nodded once at her mother, before moving her small hands to point at various things in curiosity.

"She'll be in Ravenclaw," Darius said, staring proudly at his daughter. "And she'll be a wonderful student I'm sure." Scarlett smiled, giving Darius a kiss, before shuffling him out of the room.

"I know, she's going to be lovely. Now go have a shower, you stink!" She laughed as Darius smiled and exited the room raising his hands in defeat.

"Yes, of course dear!"

* * *

A loud bang resonated about the homely place once again. It had been happening more often as of late. Epaphras sighed as he looked up to see what his son was doing once again. He'd had the day off today, a well deserved rest he felt from constant auroring. He sighed as he glanced at the photo on the mantle-piece. A photo of his wedding, and of his ex-wife, who also happened to be the rising up the ranks in the Ministry of Magic quite quickly as the war continued to rage around Britain. Or would have, he'd heard about You-Know-Who, so he was understandably a bit happier.

He glanced up at his son, Michael Bones, who was causing a ruckus once again. Michael's constant rackets and banging was one of the reasons Amelia decided it was enough, that and she felt that he was too dedicated to his job. Something he could honestly say about her as well.

He still loved her. That much was certain. He'd taken her surname when they'd married, in a show of love towards her. She'd appreciated it, and he knows she still does, even when the divorce had been settled. The surname was a sign of better times, in his eyes.

Michael banged the wall again, he sighed as he got up and moved the boy away. He'd been gradually getting more and more troubling as he got older. Today was the worst by far. He slumped back onto his chair, resting his head in his hands. He was concerned for his son, of course he was. He'd tried to discipline him but he always had trouble with the boy, Amelia could always handle him better than he could. Possibly it was a case of neither of them being around much, due to their jobs keeping them away from their homes. The day that his cousin, Susan had been brought over by Amelia's brother, who'd wanted to cousins to get to know each other. That afternoon had been one of the worst. Susan had left the house in tears. They hadn't seen her since.

He felt responsible for it. As he felt that Michael could've had more discipline, or at least some manners taught to him, but he continued to create havoc, and he was getting increasingly good at it. This is what concerned him. He felt like the world would come crashing down again, a sign that maybe things weren't as good as they seemed.

He hoped that when the day would come, his son would choose who he would follow well.

* * *

Frank frowned. Being in hiding was one of the worst experiences of his life. He felt at peace, somewhat. But everyday was the same thing. A slow, long, burning day of wanting to do more but being unable to, and he knew his wife felt the same way. Frank and his wife, Alice, were Aurors. They were a large part of the dwindling numbers in You-Know-Who's followers over the last couple years, ever since they'd left school. Only stopping in their usual Auror work to have their son, Neville, who they loved so very dearly, the boy currently snoozing in the dark night streaming through the window.

"I wonder when we can leave." Alice asked, as she stepped into the small living space, sitting beside her husband, watching her son rest beside her.

"I'm sure we'll find out soon." Frank replied, twiddling his fingers. He'd been restless for days, ever since they'd been put into hiding. He knew the Potters were in hiding to, unsure of when they would be allowed back into civilisation.

"We'd better go see Augusta once we can get out." Alice stated, referring to Frank's mother. "She'd want to see Neville, considering how many guests we are allowed to have." Alice said, indicating to the largely empty room, besides the small family.

"Yes, of course." Frank replied, turning to his wife, giving her a small smile.

"Although," Alice said, pondering her next words. "She can be a bit… strict, with him." She said, giving her boy a loving look. Frank gave a small laugh.

"She loves him, really." Frank said, reassuring his wife, causing her to smile at him. "She's always been like that. I guess it's her way of showing affection." Frank thought, remembering back to his own school days.

"Yeah… I guess." Alice replied, taking a sip of tea, staring at the ground. "It feels weird."

"You can say that again."

"No," Alice said, looking up at her husband. "Weird as in almost normal. Like something wonderful has happened. But… there's also that feeling of dread, like something terrible happened so something wonderful could come from it." Frank stared slightly at his wife, before looking at the ground, in thought. "Frank?"

"Yes?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Your words, dear." He replied, giving his wife a small kiss. "I understand what you mean. I'm not sure how to say this, but it seems like the world may finally be getting back to normal."

"Yeah…" Alice said, staring at her feet again. "I just can't shake this terrible feeling. I feel like it should be gone by now. But it's not." She said, glancing at her husband. Frank came over and hugged his wife, giving her comfort.

"I know, Alice." He said, using her name. "I feel it too."

* * *

An engine roared as it sped past the cold land. Roaring constantly, a semblance of frantic, hurrying in its wake. It stopped, and a man jumped off the bike, setting it into park, and getting off. He shook his shaggy hair out of the way, and stared at the once proud home, now partly destroyed, with a chunk of the house's roof blown off.

"No," The man said, the word becoming a repeating mantra in his mind. "No, no, no, no, no." He said, rushing towards the house, bad memories from a couple months before entering his mind, remembering the pain and anguish he had felt then, and was sure he would feel now. He stepped slowly towards the front door, having been blown off its hinges by a previous attacker. He glanced inside, looking towards the doorway to the Living Room. He stopped, staring numbly at the man that lay before him, he started to gasp heavily as he slowly trod up the stairs, expecting the worst. A woman lay on the ground, in the nursery, he was silent still, staring, hollow. The fire of a couple months before coming back to him. Holding his fiancée in his arms as she died from horrific burns. Everything had changed. His friends were going, leaving him, one by one.

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the small home, and the man, in his haste, quickly rushed from the home, heading towards the trees nearby, hiding inside. The figure entered the home, leaving soon after with a bundle in his hands. Recognising the figure, the man stepped out.

"Hagrid." The figure glanced over, now that he could see him better, he could see the giant of a man that Hagrid was. He glanced down, a slight distaste in his eyes.

"Black."

"Hagrid, is that?"

"Yep, sure is Sirius. Wha' are yeh doin' here?"

"Just… seeing if it was true." Hagrid gave Sirius a look, but said nothing as Sirius glanced at the baby in Hagrid's arms. "Look, Hagrid, give me the boy. That's how James and Lily would have wanted it."

"No can do, Sirius. Dumbledore's orders." Hagrid replied, staring ahead. Sirius glanced at the ground.

"Right, yes, of course. Can I ask where you're taking him?" He pleaded, glancing at the man.

"Sorry, Sirius. Dumbledore believes it necessary tha' he be placed somewhere without anyone else knowin'." Sirius sighed.

"Well, in that case. Take my bike, just… make sure he's fine." Hagrid gruffly nodded, before stepping towards Sirius' discarded motorcycle and stepping onto it. The engine roared once again, and Hagrid adjusted some giant-sized glasses on his face. "Hagrid, make sure that you return my bike!" Sirius said, over the load roaring of the engine. Hagrid glanced over, betraying no emotion.

"I wouldn' be so sure abou' tha', Sirius." He said, before moving away. Sirius watched as his favourite motorbike flew into the air, rising above the clouds, disappearing into the sky.

Sirius watched sadly, before an overwhelming anger overtook him. He growled as he rushed towards the flat of one of his friends. Intent on finishing the job that should've already taken place.

* * *

*****

Finally, after long hours, the day came to an end. The lights all around Privet Drive, and certainly, around Britain shut off as one, the only lights now being the various street lights, lighting up any late workers who happened to still be out. The cat, having sat beside the street all day, narrowed its eyes. Its tail bristled, as a man appeared at the end of Privet Drive.

Such an old man as well. He had a magnificent white beard coming down to his knees, and his sparkling blue eyes were adorned with half-moon glasses. The man was very old, with a wise look to him. He wore a beautiful set of purple robes, with a set of nice boots to go along with it. He glanced down at the cat, nodding towards it. "Ah, I should have known." The man said, smiling gently, as he lifted an object from his pocket. This object was clicked once, and suddenly, one of the lampposts sitting along the street went out. He clicked it again, another lamppost went out. He clicked it twelve times in total, sending Privet Drive into total darkness. He smiled once again, putting the object away. He then turned towards the cat again, a smile on his face. "What a surprise! I didn't know I'd find you here, Professor McGonagall." He said, smiling as the cat gave him a small glare, standing up and shifting shape.

A woman now stood in front of the man, her black hair done up in a tight bun, wearing some tartan green robes. "Well, I would say it's nice to see you Albus, but I'd think I have another question. How could you tell it was me?"

"Ah, my dear Minerva." Albus replied, giving the woman a kind smile. "You see, I don't think I've ever seen any cat that is able to sit as stiffly as you can." Minerva kept her lips thin, glancing over at the wall she had been sitting on throughout the day.

"Well, you would be too if you'd been sitting on that wall all day." Minerva sternly replied, letting out a small huff in front of her superior.

"Well then, maybe you should've been out celebrating instead." Albus replied, licking his lips as he remembered the things he went through getting here. "I must say, there were some positively delightful parties that I passed on my way here. They were simply magnificent, I even managed to stop by some of them and say hello."

"Yes, that's all well and good, Albus, but those same parties have almost revealed ourselves to the world at large. That's not good. I heard it on their news. Shooting Stars! Owls out during the day! Don't forget, Albus. The Muggles have noticed, it was a miracle we weren't outed today." Minerva replied, sternly, remembering one event in particular. "Dedalus Diggle was out tonight, wasn't he? Shooting Stars…" Albus chuckled lightly.

"You can't blame any of them, Minerva." Albus said, giving the woman a small pat on the shoulder. "Why, wouldn't you want to celebrate with everyone as well."

"Sorry, Albus, but I do not. Just because You-Know-Who has supposedly disappeared, doesn't mean that should be the day that the Muggles find out about our kind. Besides, have you seen everyone today. It's like the Statue of Secrecy doesn't exist! Out and about in broad daylight, wearing traditional robes!" Minerva said, staring sternly at Albus.

"It would seem so." Albus replied, smiling at the woman, before continuing. "However, I would certainly give them a little bit of a pass considering the circumstances. We do have much to be thankful for." Albus pulled something out of his pocket, pulling a yellow sweet out and popping it into his mouth, savouring the taste. "Would you like a Sherbet Lemon?"

"A what?" Minerva replied, wondering just what Albus was talking about.

"A Sherbet Lemon. It's a Muggle sweet I came across recently. Quite divine, would you like one?"

"No, thank you." Minerva replied quite coldly. "Now's not the time to be thinking about sweets, Albus. Now, even if You-Know-Who was actually gone…"

"My dear Professor, surely a person of your own calibre would be able to call him by his proper name? All this You-Know-Who nonsense is quite definitely starting to get out of hand. Surely you would be able to call him by his name: Voldemort?" As Albus spoke, Minerva shuddered, a sense of uneasiness going through her. Albus ignored her, proceeding to pop another Sherbet Lemon in his mouth. "Surely if we keep calling him You-Know-Who, then things would just get really confusing. I have never seen, and never will see, a reason why Voldemort as a name is supposedly frightening."

"Everyone knows why you don't." Minerva replied, half in exasperation, half in admiration. "You know why. Everyone knows that you where the only one that You-Know –" Albus gave his colleague a look, causing her to retreat back. "V-Voldemort ever truly feared."

"Ah, but you forget an important part. Voldemort had powers that I never had."

"That's only because you were too afraid to use them. Too noble you could say."

"You're lucky it's dark, Minerva. I haven't blushed this much since Madam Pomfrey told me that I had excellent new earmuffs." Minerva gave her superior a sharp look, but continued nervously.

"I'm sure your earmuffs were delightful, but can we stay on topic? The Owls are nothing compared to some of the rumours that I've heard today. The rumours about how Voldemort actually disappeared." Suddenly, Minerva's complete demeanour had changed. The stern Professor had become a completely different person, a more motherly persona coming in. "I heard that Voldemort appeared in Godric's Hollow last night, headed towards the Potters home. Albus… I heard that Lily and James are… dead." Albus didn't reply, simply bowing his head in respect. Minerva gasped. "Lily and James… Oh, Albus… I wouldn't think…"

Albus reached a hand out and patted his colleague's shoulder. "I know, I know. But we must look forward. We have more work to do."

"I assume this work has to do with their son, Harry? Oh god, Albus. I heard that Voldemort tried to kill the boy, but he couldn't. Somehow, his powers failed him. He disappeared. People are saying that that's how he's gone." Albus simply nodded, glancing over softly as the woman pulled out a hangkerchief and blew into it. "It's true, then. After everything we've gone through… all those wonderful innocent people that he killed… and he couldn't kill this boy? It's astounding, that someone as small as Harry is the one to end the war as we know it. But there's one thing, how did Harry even survive?"

"That," Albus replied. "Is something we may never know." Minerva sniffed again as Albus pulled out a worn pocketwatch from his pocket. Any Muggle who looked at it though wouldn't understand what they were seeing. For this watch didn't have numbers, but rather twelve planets rotating around the outer ring. Albus obviously understood exactly what he was looking at though, as he nodded to himself, and put the object away. "Hagrid's late." He said simply, glancing up towards the sky. "I suppose Hagrid told you I'd be here?"

"Yes, he did." Minerva replied, glancing over at Albus in interest. "I was wondering what you were doing down here in a small street in Little Whinging."

"I've come here to bring Harry over to his Aunt and Uncle." Albus said, indicating towards the nearby home. Minerva stood up at once.

"Albus, you can't!" She started. "I've been watching them all day, and I've never seen a more ungrateful group of Muggles in my life! Harry Potter! Come and live here! It's an outrage! Why, I saw their own son kick his mother right up the street! They are one of the worst groups of Muggles I've seen! And you want Harry to live here!"

"Exactly." Albus said, giving his colleague a look, showing that he knew what he was doing. "They're the only family he has left. Therefore, he can grow up away from all the fame and fortune that I'm sure will befall him. Besides, I've written the lovely Petunia a letter."

"A letter!?" Minerva replied in exasperation. "You think you'd be able to explain all of this in a letter!" Albus simply nodded. "I don't think they'd appreciate that one bit Albus! But I do understand your point about fame and fortune. Every single child in our society will know his name. I'm sure there'll be families lobbying for custody of the boy. What are you going to do, Albus?"

"The boy cannot be taken by anyone else. That much is certain. No, the boy must live here. I'm sure he will be fully taken care of." Albus replied, leaving much vague to McGonagall. "Besides, growing up away from all the fame will be good for the boy. Wouldn't want to let any of that fame get to his head." Albus chuckled.

"Yes, right. That makes sense." McGonagall said as she stared up at the sky, intent on finding out just what was so interesting to Albus. "So, how exactly is young Harry getting here."

"Hagrid's bringing him." Albus simply replied.

"Hagrid?" Minerva asked, shocked. "Do you think it's – wise… to trust Hagrid with something like this…" Albus glanced over at Minerva.

"Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life."

"Of course. But I'm not saying his hearts not in the right place, because he's probably the most thoughtful man I know. But he can be a bit careless, who knows what could happen to the boy on the way –" Suddenly, a low roar was heard across the land, a rumbling shaking the many trees and small objects around the small street. Both Albus and Minerva glanced up at the sky, where a motorcycle was currently drifting towards the nearby ground. The bike landed on the nearby road with a slight clunk, Hagrid's large form sitting neatly atop the bike. The bike skidded to a stop, a small bundle visible in the man's large arms.

"Ah, Hagrid. At last you've arrived." Albus said, stepping forward the greet the man. "I must ask, where did you get that bike?"

"I borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Hagrid said, hopping off the bike. "From a young Sirius Black, he was lookin' aroun' the house when I got there. Told me I could take it so the boy was safe." Albus glanced over at Minerva in shock, and wonder.

"Well, it's good that we got him out of there." Albus said. "I trust there were no troubles?"

"Nope, none, Professor Dumbledore, sir. The house was fallin' apar' quickly, but I got 'im outta there before the place collapsed in on itself, an' those Muggles started to swarm around. The young lad fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol." Hagrid said, holding the boy out so Minerva and Albus could get a good look at him. He looked just like any other normal one-year-old boy. What was interesting however, was that a scar could be seen sitting under the tufts of black hair. Shaped like a single lightning bolt. Minerva gasped.

"Is that where –"

"Unfortunately, yes." Albus replied. "He's going to have that scar forever."

"What? Albus, can't you do something about it." Minerva asked, fretting over the young boy.

"Alas, no I cannot. Besides, scars can be quite useful. Why, I have one myself just above my left knee. Turns out it's a perfect map of the London Underground. Quite ingenious." Minerva looked miffed for a moment, but let Albus continue. "Give him here, Hagrid. We'd better get this over with." Albus gently took the boy in his arms and headed towards the Dursley's home.

"Dumbledore, sir. Could I – say good bye to 'im, sir?" Hagrid asked, feeling the water starting to form in his eyes.

"Of course you can, Hagrid." Albus gently said, bringing the boy back over to Hagrid. Hagrid tried to give the boy a kiss, which came out more scratchy than it intended to, before he burst into tears.

"Be quiet, Hagrid!" Minerva sternly stated. "At this rate you'll wake all the Muggles up!"

"I-I-I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Hagrid got out, between sobs. "'s jus'. Lily and J-James are dead, and young H-Harry sent to live with M-Muggles!"

"Yes, yes. It's all very sad, Hagrid. But we have to keep ourselves together, especially in a time like this." Minerva gently said, watching as Albus stepped onto the doorstep of Number 4, gently placing the boy down on the doorstep. He made sure the boy was tucked in gently, slipping a small letter into the folds. Throughout all of this, Harry slept on, oblivious to what was happening around him. Albus stepped back, heading towards his two colleagues. They stood, watching. None moving a muscle. Hagrid's shoulders shuddered.

"Well, I'd feel we'd better get going wouldn't you say." Albus said. "We have no more business staying here. I saw a lovely party happening a few streets over. What do you say we go join in the Celebrations?"

"I'd love to, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, sir. But I'd bes' get this bike back. G-night, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Both Professors watched as Hagrid quickly returned to the bike. The sounds of the engine blaring and the sight of Hagrid and the bike disappearing into the clouds above notified them to leave themselves.

"Well, that's that. I expect to be seeing you soon, Professor McGonagall." Minerva sniffled in reply to Albus, as the older man started heading down the street. He turned around at the end of the street, pulling out the small object he had earlier on. He clicked it once, and all twelve balls of light returned to their previous locations. The soft glow allowing Albus to see the small bundle holding young Harry, and a tabby cat retreating into the nearby bushes. He smiled gently as he continued to glance towards Number 4. "Good luck. Harry Potter." Albus said, before he had disappeared from view, leaving the street basking in the artificial light once again.

Throughout all of this, young Harry didn't stir. Continuing to rest peacefully in the darkness of the night. Unconscious of all the celebration happening about him right now.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's the first chapter! Now, there is a ten year time jump at the beginning of Chapter 2 of Philosopher's Stone, so that's ten years of extra stuff I can write about! So, expect the next couple chapters to have absolutely nothing to do with a Vanishing Glass! It'll most likely go: Chapter 2 will cover the remainder of 1981-1986, and Chapter 3 will cover 1987-1991, just before The Vanishing Glass starts. Now, there are three OC characters introduced in this Chapter, there's one more, but I have another idea of when to introduce the Muggle Families, this Chapter was dedicated to pretty much all the important wizarding families. (Don't worry, Luna fans! She'll come in later!)
> 
> Anyway, until the 2nd…

**Author's Note:**

> A Shorter chapter, but I didn’t want to have a long prologue. This scene should be familiar to everyone in this fandom, and I hope I did it justice. There are some creative decisions I’ve taken here so that some things can make sense. Having the entire tale told without dialogue still allows the dialogue to first appear in Prisoner of Azkaban, and have the reveal of what was actually said still occur.
> 
> Also, anyone who can understand the reference regarding that first line in this chapter deserves a cookie!
> 
> Overall, I’m quite happy with this short but sweet chapter. Next time, the aftermath of this scene, re-written in my own way, while also paying homage to the original. Until then, Ciao!


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